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by Melody_Jade



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Erik/Charles if you squint - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Post X-Men: First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8753449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melody_Jade/pseuds/Melody_Jade
Summary: "Charles looked in astonishment at the scene in his living room."An alternative look at what happened after Cuba.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phalangine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/gifts).



Charles looked in astonishment at the scene in his living room.

Lying on the floor just in front of him was a sleeping Hank, completely oblivious to the world around him as he drooled onto the luxurious carpet. A snoring Sean cuddled him from behind, contented thoughts like _soft cuddly my favorite teddy bear_ broadcasting from his dreaming mind. Moira curled up on her side not far from them, the phone set held still loosely in her hand as though she had nodded off mid conversation.

Across the room, right at the spot where warm sunlight shone in from the massive windows, was a pile of limbs. He could see Raven’s blue skin and red hair, but it took him a while to recognize the others. Angel’s head was pillowed against Raven’s stomach, their hands entwined. Her bare feet was pushed against Alex’s head, but Charles doubted Alex would notice even if he were awake – because Alex was sleeping beside a very much alive Armando and clinging on to him like an octopus, their foreheads pressed together in sleep.

Ah. Charles was starting to remember what had happened.

They were at Cuba. Erik had emerged out of the wreckage of the submarine, manipulating a dead Sebastian Shaw like a rag doll, declaring war on the humans and ignoring all of Charles’s pleas for him to stop. Moira had opened fire on Erik and Erik had diverted the bullets with an annoyed flick of his hands.

Two things had happened in quick succession then.

First, one of the diverted bullets had ricocheted off Charles’s leg. His flight suit was bulletproof, but the impact of the bullet still hurt, and brought him down to the sand with a choked cry. This distracted Erik sufficiently and he rushed to Charles’s side as the missiles exploded in the sky, a spectacular but ultimately harmless display of power.

Right on the heels of that was the sight of Armando Muñoz staggering out of the beached submarine, breathing hard and blinking his eyes at the strong sunlight but otherwise none the worse for wear, and more importantly, _still alive_.

Chaotic was the best word to describe what had happened next. His young students had been overjoyed, running over to hug a disoriented Armando, while Azazel and Janos, seeing that they were outnumbered, had clasped hands and teleported away from the beach.

Charles had gleaned from Armando and Angel’s minds that Armando hadn’t been killed in the CIA raid, but had converted into energy instead. Later, after Charles and the rest of the mutants had left, he had reconstituted himself back in the wrecked CIA compound. Azazel, who had been monitoring the area, had captured him and taken him back to Shaw, who kept him prisoner to keep Angel, who had been having second thoughts, in line.

Erik and Moira were engaged in a furious argument over what to do about the CIA and the ships still currently training weapons on them, and finally, in frustration, Charles had reached out with his mind and wiped the events of the last hour from each and every one of the soldiers, sending them off on their way.

He had never over-extended himself this far, and had blacked out immediately after that.

He woke up to find himself back home, and a group of exhausted mutants (and one human) sleeping in a pile of tired limbs in his living room. Charles himself was stretched out over his couch, a blanket thrown carefully over him. To his astonishment, his head was on Erik’s lap, and Erik sat on the couch over him, eyes closed and head thrown back on the couch with his hands in Charles’s hair. There was no helmet on Erik’s head, and Charles felt a wave of relief so strong he had to close his eyes for a moment.

There was a general feeling of _tired exhaustion relief_ floating through the room, and a very strong emotion of _safety home_ emanating from all of them, even from Armando and Angel who had never been to his mansion before.

Charles sat up, being careful not to disturb a sleeping Erik, and got to his feet, stifling a groan as pain shot up through his leg. The bruise from the ricocheted bullet was still tender, and he walked slowly, mindful of each step. He gently pried the phone away from Moira’s hands, replacing it back on the holder. He took out some blankets from the storage cupboard, because the sun was starting to set and it was getting too cold to be sleeping on the carpet in his living room. One by one, he covered them all with blankets, soothing them back to sleep with a gentle nudge of his mind if they showed signs of waking.

The last person he covered with a blanket was Raven, who shifted and mumbled a little but didn’t otherwise wake up. He looked at her – in her own skin with blue scales and red hair – and softly pressed a kiss on her forehead. “You’re beautiful and I love you, and I’m sorry I never said that before,” he whispered to her, sending a similar sentiment to her with his telepathy and she smiled in her sleep.

He turned back to the couch, and found Erik awake and studying him. Charles crossed back over the room, eyes still holding Erik’s as he carefully navigated around the sleeping bodies scattered over the floor. Finally he stood over Erik. Erik’s mind was a hurricane of thoughts – _defiance exhaustion protectiveness_ all battling for dominance within his mind – but it was the undercurrent of _lost_ that led Charles to sit down beside Erik on the couch and take Erik’s hand, stroking it in a caress.

Shaw was dead. Erik’s purpose, the thing that had sustained him for so many years, was fulfilled, and there was now a void left in Erik, a vacuum he sought to fill. Charles understood now why Erik had done what he did back in Cuba, it had been a search for a new purpose.

 _You can find another purpose_ , he ventured tentatively to Erik, and Erik breathed in sharply, still looking at Charles but not responding otherwise. _Life doesn’t have to be about violence or retaliation all the time. Sometimes, purpose can be found in the most mundane of tasks._ Charles looked around at their sleeping students, all so exhausted they couldn’t even go to their own rooms and sleep, and he dared to squeeze Erik’s hands. _I want you by my side, Erik._

After an eternity, Erik nodded once, his expression still lost but becoming more determined, and squeezed Charles’s hands back. He leaned back, and Charles reclined against him, pulling the blanket over them both.

There were still plans to be made for the future. But for now, surrounded by friends and safe at home, they could sleep.


End file.
